


A Midnight Clear

by Bookgrrl



Category: Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom - Freeform, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookgrrl/pseuds/Bookgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first Tom fanfic. AU/OLLA This idea came to me in a dream and refused to leave until I wrote it down. Adam returns from Tangiers alone. Eve is gone, taken by the same blood contaminant that killed Marlowe. It's Christmas and he's alone. He's saved from his loneliness by Traci (my OC), who owns the bar they all went to when Ava showed up. She was Ian's best friend and had developed a close relationship with Eve as well. </p><p>If you like it, there may be future chapters... let me know what you think. :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You could at least help me unpack these ornaments, Mr. Bah Humbug." Traci side-stepped a pile of instrument cases to avoid toppling his precariously piled Motown albums. "And when's the last time someone vacuumed this place?"

  
Adam watched her through the thick fall of his shaggy black hair, silent.

One year, he wanted to say. Sixteen months, to be most exact.

Sixteen months since his Eve had visited that last fateful time and his entire, structured world had turned to complete shit. Sixteen months since Ava had killed his only living friend and set him and his beloved Eve on the path that would cost him everything he'd ever loved.

  
Instead, he stroked the neck of the garish Hagstrom guitar perched across his lap and pressed his lips tighter together. Ian had brought him this one.

  
_Poor, poor Ian._

  
"C'mon, Adam. Please?" She wiped her hands on her jeans and squinted up at the large evergreen tree propped in the corner of his already overstuffed living room. "I'm too short to reach the upper branches and you're so tall." She slid him a narrowed side glance and a small, devilish smile. "Besides, the sooner I get this done, the sooner I leave you to your precious solitude."

  
The challenge in her tone snapped him to full attention. He'd not wanted the damned tree to begin with, saw absolutely no point in celebrating a holiday that post-dated him by at least two thousand years, but she'd insisted. Said she'd promised Eve that she'd look after him and she intended to keep that vow. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was, she'd joked.

  
"Fine." With an aggrieved sigh, he slid the 'mother of toilet seat'-encased instrument off his lap and pushed to his feet, the old hardwood floor creaking beneath his black combat boots. Slowly, he wound his way over to stand beside her. "Remind me why I'm being subjected to this pagan monstrosity again."

  
"It's festive." She glanced around the dimly lit room, her expression sad. "And you can use all the festive you can get right now. We both can."

  
A stab of remorse pricked his chest. Traci was only trying to help. He knew that. Too bad it was a waste of time. He'd been long past intervention ages ago. He poked a long strand of red-beaded garland strewn across the floor with the toe of his boot. "Sorry. I don't do festive."

  
"Maybe you should try. Here." She grabbed the garland and handed it to him. "Start winding this around the top please while I sort through this box of bulbs."

  
She turned away and crouched near a large cardboard container. "These were up in the attic of the bar, so I thought I'd bring them along. Good thing too, since you don't have any decorations of your own."

  
Her continued chatter lulled him as he draped the tree like she'd asked. Much as he hated to admit it, he liked having her around. More than he should. Much more than was wise. She ran the hole-in-the-wall pub they'd gone to the night Ava had arrived and insisted on going out. Traci and Ian had known each other for years, were best friends. Then she and Eve had developed an instant rapport that night at the bar. The initial acquaintance soon evolved into a deeper friendship. Adam hadn't realized how close they'd become until he'd returned from Tangiers alone and discovered Traci distraught. With Ian missing and now Eve gone, she'd lost almost as much as he had.

  
Almost.

  
He stared down at the top of her dark-auburn hair and felt a pang of loneliness. As much as he cherished his privacy, he'd never felt so alone.

  
Adam tucked in the final end of the garland between two thick branches. It had been years since he'd had a Christmas tree. Years since he'd cared enough to even remember the season. The last time had been two centuries prior in Vienna. He and Eve had rented a medieval chateau with Marlowe and, on a whim, they'd decided to celebrate the winter solstice. Eve had been so happy then, her beautiful face filled with childlike glee as they'd purchased loads of ornaments and trinkets...

  
"Oh!" Traci gasped and rocked back on her heels. "These aren't what I thought they were. I must've grabbed the wrong box." She held up a delicate blown glass ornament. "This looks really old."

  
Adam leaned closer to see what she held and his breath hitched.

  
_No. It couldn't be..._

  
Eve had told him all the things from Vienna had been destroyed. Yet here was a relic from his past, a piece of his beloved Eve he'd thought gone forever. He reached toward it with shaky fingers.

  
"Adam?" Traci asked, her tone concerned. "I'm so sorry. This was one of the boxes Eve gave to me before she..." Her voice trailed off. "Well, before. I-I should've paid more attention."

  
Just as his fingertips reached the iridescent surface of the hand-painted star, Traci stood, yanking it from his reach. With herculean effort, he stopped himself from snatching it back with his preternatural reflexes. Wouldn't do to blow his cover now and scare away the one person who'd been kind to him since his return.

  
Traci knew nothing about who he really was, what he really was.

  
She thought him a reclusive musician, an eccentric rockstar with hermetic tendencies, a good friend of the friend she'd lost and a sometimes performer in her pub.

  
Nothing more.

  
Never mind he sometimes caught her watching him with fascination and, if he was honest, desire. But the last thing he needed now was a new lover. He'd just lost his soulmate, his eternal companion, to the same freak blood contaminate that had stolen Marlowe away months earlier. He couldn't stand to lose anyone else.

  
Not now. Not ever again.

  
Then his jumbled thoughts snagged on what she'd said earlier. "Eve gave these to you?"

  
"Yeah. Right before you guys left for Tangiers." Her gaze remained focused on the fragile object in her hand, small lines of worry creasing her pale forehead. For a moment, he had the crazy urge to smooth those lines away with his fingers or his lips until he squashed the inappropriate need. She raised sad brown eyes to meet his. "I thought she'd told you."

  
"No." He reached for the ornament again and this time she gave it to him. A thin gold chain dangled from his finger as he held the star up to the nearest light. Rainbow shafts of color danced around the room. "We bought these long ago, in Austria. It snowed that night and the sleigh got stuck in a ditch. We almost froze solid before Marlowe rescued us." His words grew softer, quieter. "They are quite precious."

  
"Do you still miss her?"

  
The question caught him off guard, jolting him out of his reverie. "Sometimes." _Always_.

  
"I miss Ian too." He didn't miss the catch in her voice or the tiny sniffle that accompanied her statement. Despite his earlier determination to stay alone, he ached to hold her, comfort her, feel alive again for the first time since Eve's death. Perhaps Traci would understand his pain, understand his burden.

  
She stepped away and wrapped her arms around her middle. "The police called me yesterday. Did I tell you?"

  
He shook his head and hung the priceless star on a sturdy branch before facing her again, then shoved his hands in his jeans pockets to keep from pulling her closer to him. Across the short distance, he could smell her scent--floral perfume, soap, and warm-blooded woman. Awareness mixed with his burgeoning affection, blending into a heady intoxication.

  
More than hunger. More than sexual arousal. More than need.

  
"They said they're closing Ian's missing person's case as unsolved." She wiped a hand under her nose and blinked hard. Tears glistened on her cheeks beneath the twinkling lights of the tree. "No leads, they said. Can you believe that?" She threw up her hands. "Over a year and no frigging leads. He was my best friend, dammit. He wouldn't just take off without telling me."

  
Unable to resist any longer, Adam clasped her shoulders. "Ian was my friend too. I miss him."

  
"I know." She gazed up at him, her warm brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "He always talked about you."

  
"He did?" Adam tensed, then relaxed fast when she winced beneath his hands. He massaged the area with his thumbs. "Sorry. It's just that we had a non-disclosure agreement."

  
"Oh. Ian never talked about anything secret. Just about what a cool guy you were and how generous you always were with him. Your talent. He idolized you."

  
"He shouldn't have." He let her go and stalked back to the black leather couch he'd purchased upon his return then plopped back into his seat. He leaned the Hagstrom against the cluttered end table beside him and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'm no saint."

  
"Maybe not." She took a seat beside him. "But I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

  
Adam snorted derisively and toyed with the cuff of his black shirt.

  
"Seriously." Traci tucked one leg beneath her and leaned her elbow against the back of the sofa, facing him. "Two people I cared about most in this world adored you. I chose to believe they had good taste."

  
He glanced up at her again, drawn by her heat and her nearness. "I could say the same about you."

  
A slight flush stained her cheeks and she looked away fast, but not before his caught the glint of passion in her eyes.

Something within him, some tight ball of sorrow and tension and dread, unfurled. In its place swarmed a buzz of electric desire. He'd not felt such a strong connection since...

  
Before she could move away again, he reached out and gripped her wrist. Beneath his fingertips her pulse beat hard and strong. His mouth dried and his fangs prickled, eager to descend.

  
 _Not yet_ , he told himself.

  
He refused to rush this, refused to scare her, to harm her in any way.

  
"Dance with me." He stood and tugged her to her feet.

  
"Oh, jeez." She made a show of checking her watch then tried to pull free. "Is that the time? I really should be going. I've got a lot to do at the bar tomorrow and..."

  
"It's Christmas Eve, Traci." He gave her a slow smile. "Actually,  I'd venture it's well into Christmas Day by now. The bar's closed." He locked gazes with her and maintained eye contact as he backed them toward his old record player. "One dance."

  
Her expression remained cautious, but she followed him. "One dance."

  
Adam nodded and flipped through a nearby stack of albums before pulling out one near the bottom and slipping the vinyl record from it's protective case. "Here we go."

  
Sound crackled from the room's speakers. Soon the smooth baritone of Nat King Cole filled the air. "It came upon a midnight clear..."

  
Ever so slowly, he inched Traci closer to him until her chest brushed against his, then wrapped a hand firmly around her waist to keep her locked in his embrace. At first she was awkward, but as they swayed gently to the music, her body relaxed and her free hand drifted up his arm to his shoulder.

  
God, it felt so good to be touched again. He hadn't danced with anyone since Eve and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, missed the contact and the intimacy, until now.

  
As they circled slowly, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against him. "Thank you."

  
"For what?"

  
"For letting me play house with you."

  
He wanted to play a lot more than house with her, but restrained himself from saying so. "My pleasure."

  
The music ended. Neither of them let go. Adam lowered his head, inhaling the clean fragrance of her hair. He'd give everything he owned to keep her with him as he slept. "Traci."

  
"Yes," she murmured, her voice muffled by the material of his shirt.

  
"Would you like to stay here tonight?"

  
She stiffened in his arms once more.

  
"Nothing needs to happen between us. I just..." He leaned back and looked down at her. "I just don't want to be alone."

  
Traci blinked up at him, silent for so long that he feared the worst. Then, without a word, she stepped back from him and took his hand, leading him toward the large oak staircase. At the bottom, she turned to him and smiled. "I promised Eve I'd look after you and that's exactly what I intend to do." She stepped up two stairs to put them at the same height then leaned in and pressed her lips gently to his. "Merry Christmas, Adam."

  
He brought his hand up to cradle her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Traci."


	2. Chapter 2

Traci woke in the pitch black, disoriented and dazed. A heavy, warm weight draped over her waist and kept her locked in place. Something solid pressed against her back and her legs felt tangled and trapped. She blinked several times and struggled to discern her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was talking to Adam on the stairs and agreeing to stay the night.

 _Adam_...

Her breath hitched.

She was in Adam's house, in Adam's bed.

Not that anything remotely sexual had occurred.

He'd looked so damned pitiful last night, so forlorn, she'd said yes. Anything to snap him out of the black mood he'd been in since Eve's passing. Truth was, it had hit them both hard and, coupled with Ian's disappearance, had knocked her for quite a loop.

Made her reconsider her priorities.

She shifted slightly and a deep, masculine moan drifted past her ear. He clutched her tighter to him and for a crazy moment she considered burrowing deeper into him and never returning. Truth was, she'd loved him since the first night he'd walked into her pub, muttering about 'zombie shit' and glaring at the world.

Not that she would ever have acted on those feelings.

He belonged to Eve and she belonged to... well, she belonged to herself. Truth was, she'd spent the majority of her adult life alone and there was no sense fixing what wasn't broke.

Adam slipped one of his long legs between hers and curled tighter around her, his voice husky when he whispered, "Not yet, love. Sleep."

Traci traced tentative fingers over his forearm and found it bare. Not unexpected, since the man seemed to abhor shirts unless forced to wear one. She traced a bare foot up his calf and found that naked too. Her curiosity and her libido were piqued.

Half-clothed Adam incited all manner of naughty thoughts in her head. The potential of a fully nude Adam tucked against her sent her rational brain into a tailspin.

She wiggled her hips slightly and he answered with a small groan.

_Nope. Nope. Nope._

Time to get up and get away from temptation.

With a quick tumble, she rolled from beneath his arm and out of bed before he snatched her back. Once free, she stepped away and fumbled in the darkness for the light switch.

 _Click_.

She squinted in the bright illumination and held a hand over her eyes. What the hell time was it anyway? She'd somehow lost her watch during the night and Adam didn't have any clocks around that she could find. She ran a hand through her mussed hair and rubbed her eyes.

He rolled over with her pillow clutched to his chest and buried his head beneath the duvet, the pale line of his spine stark against the blood red sheets.

 _Boxers_. Black silk boxers slung low on his slim hips. Nothing else.

Guess that answered her earlier question.

Not naked. Not entirely anyway.

She glanced down at her own jeans and tee and sighed.

So much for a romance novel ending to their night together.

After finding and using the facilities, Traci returned to the bedroom to explore. Despite their close friendship, she still knew so little about Adam. Whenever she asked him, he deftly avoided divulging any real information about his past. A quick peek at the bed showed him still sound asleep, so she took the opportunity to peruse the photos lining one wall. An odd assortment of literary giants, brilliant scientists, and philosophers.

And Eve. Gorgeous, wise, tragic Eve.

Traci bit back her tears and picked up the tiny photo in the delicate frame.

Adam looked so different with his shorter hair, combed back from his handsome face, and his formal suit. And Eve glowed in her antique wedding gown.

Funny. She wouldn't have taken them for re-enactors, but it looked like they'd chosen a vintage, nineteenth-century western theme for their marriage.

She set the photo back on his nightstand and moved to check the weather outside. The forecast had called for snow. She lifted the edge of the heavy velvet drapes covering the window and was surprised to see bright sunshine outside instead. And judging from the length of the shadows, it had to be early afternoon.

 _Crap_.

It might be a holiday, but she still had a shit ton of paperwork to catch up on at the bar and an early morning delivery the next day to prepare for.

Her stomach growled and she realized she hadn't eaten in more than twenty-four hours.

She picked up Adam's robe off the end of the bed and tugged it on before heading downstairs to scrounge for food. If she'd thought her own kitchen bare, his was downright pathetic. Hell, the guy didn't even have his fridge plugged in. Looked like she'd be making a run to the corner 7-Eleven. Now if she could just find her shoes...

She swiveled and ran face-first into Adam's chest.

He smelled of spice and sandalwood and something uniquely him.

Part of her longed to bury her nose in the tiny crook between his neck and his shoulder and stay there forever. Part of her wanted to run screaming from the room and save what small part of her sanity remained intact. Instead she moved away and stalled for time. "Hey, sleepyhead. I'm making a food run. Want anything?"

He growled and wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, tugging her close again. "You. Back in my bed."

"No can do." She poked her index finger into his chest and attempted to lighten the mood. "I'm hungry and you're out of grub. So unless you've got a pizza hidden up there. I'm going."

He stared at her a moment before rolling his eyes and releasing her. "Fuck."

"I won't be gone long." She followed him out to the living room, where he flopped down on a worn velvet setee and picked up his beloved lute.

"I'd forgotten about your human penchant for food," he said in a disgruntled tone.

"Huh?" She narrowed her gaze on him, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt for his odd statement. Maybe he needed caffeine to function, same as her. "I'm leaving now. As soon as I find my shoes. And my coat."

"Be careful, love." His low, hypnotic voice followed her out of the room. "And be back by dark. I have plans for us tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light fluff and smut and their first real kiss. Enjoy! :D

_What the fuck?_

Adam set aside his drumsticks and moved cautiously toward the window. He peeled back the edge of the drapes and peered out at the darkened street below. Traci should’ve been back hours ago, but there was still no sign of her. The waxing moon had risen high in the sky, shedding an eerie glow over the rundown landscape.

Agitated and anxious, he let the heavy fabric fall back into place. Where the hell was she?

_I won’t be gone long._

Her parting words echoed in his head as he shrugged off his robe and pulled on a clean shirt and his boots. Much as he hated to go out, he hated the thought of losing yet another person close to him even more.

He grabbed his leather jacket on the way out the door and headed down to his white vintage Jaguar XJ-S. After cranking the custom Tesla motor to start it, he climbed inside and barreled through the brush-filled yard to the street beyond.

The 7-Eleven was close and he drove past slowly, scanning the area for any sign of her. Nothing. Continued on down Arthur Avenue, heading west, keeping a constant lookout for a petite single woman walking alone. He spotted several blow-up snowmen and a rather disturbing Santa with a crazed, serial killer grin in someone’s front yard, but otherwise nada.

His chest constricted and his shoulders tensed. Not showing up wasn’t like Traci. Nor was breaking her promises. Something must have happened. Something… or _someone_.

No. He shook his head and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Ava was long gone. No way would she come back here again. There had to be another explanation.

Turning onto Woodward, he headed south toward Henry Street and Traci's pub. She had seemed preoccupied about the business earlier, but he’d not expected her to go there tonight. It was still Christmas, after all, and she’d made such a fuss about it being special the night before.

At last he pulled up near the bar and cut the engine. Outside, the wind rustled his hair and stole his frosted breath but he barely registered the frigid temperatures. His attention was firmly focused on the light coming from a window at the back of the building. The psychometric connection he’d formed with her the night before while they’d danced and later when she’d slept in his arms—skin to skin, without his gloves—pulsed strong through his body.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. _Yes_. She was safe inside.

Adam made his way to the back entrance and knocked twice. Moments later the metal door creaked open slightly and Traci peeked out. “Oh, hey,” she said, pushing the door open wider to let him in. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” he mumbled. “You said you wouldn’t be gone long.”

“I haven’t been, have I?” She rubbed her eyes and stretched her neck. “What time is it anyway?”

He gave her a deadpan look. Time became meaningless to him centuries ago.

“Right.” She led him back down the short hall toward her office. “I should know better than to ask you, huh? Mr. I-Have-No-Schedule.” She shoved a stack of papers off a stool and pointed at it. “Make yourself comfortable. I just need to finish up a couple things.”

“I had plans for us tonight.” He watched as she took a seat back behind her desk, then he promptly ignored the proffered chair in favor of inspecting the various photos and notes tacked up on a board on the wall. “You work too hard.”

“I don’t have a choice. We aren’t all independently wealthy like you.” Her snarky tone wasn’t lost on him.

He sighed and gave her a sideways glance. “What do you need money for?”

“Um, let’s see. Besides food and clothes and rent?” She raised a finger for each item. “This place needs new plumbing and a new roof and the floor hasn’t been refinished since 1972. Not to mention the table and chairs need to be replaced and…”

“Fine. I get it.” He slumped into his seat, and picked at his leather gloves. “How much do you need?”

“More than I’m comfortable revealing.” She smiled at him over the top of her laptop screen. “Now let me get back to work so we can go.”

The walls of the room were covered with old concert posters from long-defunct punk bands and folk singers, the combination a perfect match for Traci’s eclectic style. While she typed away on her keyboard, he studied her. The bluish light from the display highlighted her delicate bone structure and pert nose. Long thick lashes didn’t quite conceal the dark circles beneath her eyes. She needed rest and he needed to get out of here.

“Time to go.” He pushed to his feet and came around the desk to stand behind her. “Close that now or I’ll close it for you.”

“Adam.” She looked up at him then exhaled. “I have to get this done so the guy coming in to meet the delivery truck in the morning knows what to do.”

He leaned down and placed his hands on her shoulders, whispering near her ear, “Five minutes, love.”

Her answering shiver sent a fresh wave of want through him. He continued to linger close, unwilling to sever their bond just yet. Her fragrance shifted slightly with the growing arousal she struggled to hide from him and he longed to remove his gloves and stroke her flesh.

“All right,” she said, breaking the spell. “Done.” Traci barely had time to shut off the computer before he tugged her from the room. “Jeez. What’s the hurry?”

“You’ll see.” He pulled her outside and bundled her into the car then rushed around to prop the hood and restart the engine. By his calculations they had maybe an hour of viewing time left. It wasn’t until he’d climbed into his own seat and closed the door, that he noticed her silence. “What?”

“This car. What is it?”

“A Jag. Why?”

She reached out and ran her fingers over the multi-colored lights twinkling from the dashboard. “The last time I saw something like this was in Back To The Future.”

“It’s from 1982 actually.” He gave her a small grin as he pulled out and headed toward the factories on the edge of town. “The motor I made based on Tesla’s original designs, of course.”

“Wait. _You_ made the motor?” She shifted in her seat to face him. “Who exactly are you again?”

“I’m Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah smartass. I mean where did you learn to build motors?”

“I’ve studied things.” He shrugged. “Lots of things.”

“Right.” She rested her elbow against the back of the seat and narrowed her gaze. “And when exactly did you have time to do all this studying? Judging from your looks, you can’t be much older than me. Unless you’re some kind of time wizard.”

“You have no idea, darling.” He swerved to the right and into a deserted lot, lined on one side by an old concrete plant. “C’mon. I’ve got something to show you.”

She followed him out of the car and around to the trunk. He popped it open and winced at the bit of carpet left over from Ian’s demise. Traci had no clue about what had happened that night, and there was no way he planned to tell her. Not until they both had more distance from the situation. To bring that truth to light now would only break her heart and crush what was left of his spirit.

“Help me set this up,” he said instead. He pulled a long, nylon bag out and slammed the trunk shut, then scanned the skies above. The moon had disappeared behind some fluffy clouds, diminishing its light.

_Perfect._

Traci unzipped the bag and pulled out a long lens. “Oh. It’s a telescope.”

Her bright smile made him fumble with the tripod base. He kept his gaze firmly on his task and away from the excited woman at his side.

“I used to love going to the planetarium as a kid. Looking at all those gorgeous galaxies and nebulas. So pretty.” She handed him the lens when he asked for it, then clapped. “This is so awesome.”

What was awesome was the sparkle in her eyes and the way her breasts jiggled beneath her shirt each time she bounced on the balls of her feet. The memory of those breasts pressed against him the night before and the warm weight of her cuddled at his side had his body twitching with desire.

 _Dammit._ This wasn’t why he’d brought her here. Not entirely anyway. This was meant to be his gift to her, the star he’d searched for since the night Eve had first told him about its existence. Traci was the only soul he wanted to share this with now, the last living being who might possibly understand its significance to him.

“All right, love.” He adjusted the controls and zoomed into the lowest southern horizon near the constellation of Centaurus. “Step over here.”

She moved in front of him, her back to his chest. At last he pulled off his gloves and stuffed them into his pockets, then wrapped his arms around her to reach the telescope. The smell of her intoxicated him more than the finest wine, but he forced himself to relax and stay on purpose. “Have a look at that.”

“Oh, pretty.” She sighed, peering into the eyepiece. “What is it?”

“Its scientific name is BPM 37093. But I prefer the zombie name, actually.”

“The what?” She giggled. The movement made her body brush against his and he bit his lip to stifle a groan. “You’re always mumbling about zombies, you silly man.”

He took a deep breath and tightened his arms around her slightly. If she kept rubbing against him like that, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. “Lucy.”

“Lucy?”

“Yeah.” He coughed to ease the tightness in his throat and snuggled in beside her ear. “Like the Beatles song. That star you’re looking at is a radiant diamond.”

“No way.” She turned slightly, bringing her lips within centimeters of his. “Seriously?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “As a heart attack.”

He kissed the top of her head. “And it also rings with the music of a gigantic gong.”

“It does?” Her response escaped as little more than a breathy sigh as his hands slid around her waist.

“Mmm.” He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt to stroke her soft skin. The connection between them flared white-hot. He knew damned well what he was doing, how his touch would manipulate her will, make her pliable and wanton and deliriously ready for him, but he was far too gone to stop.

Her breath hitched and her eyelids fluttered. “Adam?”

“Yes, love.” He leaned in closer, closer, so close their breath mingled.

“I-I think... I feel…”

“Don’t think, love.” He turned her slowly to face him, wanting to halt time, wanting to rush headlong into the passion she ignited. It had been so long, too long since he’d felt this. Since his Eve had passed. “Just feel. We need this. Both of us.”

His lips brushed hers, once, twice. Held and parted, their tongues stroking, dueling. She tasted of spice and sweet and vibrant life.

She gave a little moan and sank into him, her fingers tracing up his arms to his shoulders then tangling in his hair to keep him close.

 _This_. This was what he’d waited for, craved with every fiber of his being.

He slid a hand to her lower back and pressed her tighter against him, letting her feel the full extent of the effect she had on him. She gasped and he grinned against her cheek.  _More_ , he needed more. His fangs descended and he kissed his way to the side of her neck, to the artery pulsing there.

One taste, one small taste, and he would let her go, let her return to her home and her life and her solitude.

A siren _whoop-whooped_ behind them and Adam whipped around fast to glare at the passing patrol car. _Fucking zombies._ One of the officers waved a bright flashlight in their direction and he hissed, cursing as he used his body to block Traci from their sight.

She struggled against him, pushed his hands away. “Adam, what’s going on?”

Her voice sounded as drugged as he felt.

The cops moved on and the darkness returned.

Traci straightened her top and kept her gaze averted. “Um, we should probably talk about that.”

He grumbled under his breath as he packed away the telescope. The last thing he wanted was to talk about the one thing he was never supposed to need. _Her._ He stowed the bag back in the trunk and turned to get back in the car, but found Traci blocking his path. “Get in the car, love.”

“No. Not yet.”

“The sun is coming up soon. We need to get home.” He attempted to step around her, but she stayed with him. “Get in the car, Traci.”

“Why? What difference does the sunrise make, Adam?”

Now wasn’t the time or the place for this discussion. He might have the occasional fantasy about burning away to a little pile of dust, but the reality was something else entirely. He grabbed her arm and steered her around to the passenger side door. “Get. In.”

“No.” She crossed her arms. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”

He held the door open, impatience making him fidget. He could feel the sun hovering closer to the horizon. It made him itchy. “I really don’t have time…”

“You kissed me."

Adam pushed her none too gently into the car and slammed the door then jogged around to the front and started the engine before jumping in. The sound of his squealing tires reverberated off the concrete walls of the nearby factory. “Yes.”

"Why?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took liberties with the location of the constellation Centaurus. It actually isn't visible in Detroit, only the southern-most sections of the northern hemisphere, but hey. My world, my galaxy. :) The opportunity was too great to pass up.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’d like two blowjobs.”

Traci peeked up over the top of the bar, half expecting to see Adam. She’d not heard from him since they’d arrived back at his house the night before. Instead of inviting her in, he’d sent her home without a word after her final question. 

_Why?_

Why had he kissed her? 

More importantly, why couldn’t she seem to forget about it?

Unwilling to get lost in that black hole of brooding again, she focused on the task at hand—bartending—and peered up into the flushed face of yet another college-aged party girl. They’d come in droves tonight to see the White Hills last show before they set off on a cross-country tour.

“Sure thing.” She straightened and grabbed two shot glasses and the bottle of Amaretto. Business had been brisk tonight, for which she was beyond grateful. Things hadn’t been great since Ian’s disappearance. Besides being her closest friend, he’d been her top promoter, talking up the bar to everyone he had contact with. Now, she had to add PR specialist to her growing list of job titles.

After filling each glass half full, she poured in a healthy dose of Bailey’s Irish Cream to finish things off and topped each with a spritz of Redi-Whip. 

Drinks in hand, Traci headed back toward to the bar, her attention focused on not tripping over the case of ale on the floor she still needed to put away and the weird tingle on the back of her neck. Like someone was watching her. _No_. More like someone was staring a hole clean through the back of her skull. “I’ll need to see your ID and twenty bucks.”

“What the fuck are those?”

Her breath hitched. She turned slowly knowing exactly who she’d see.

Adam.

“Blowjobs.” Her response squeaked out and she coughed to clear the lump from her throat. In all the time she’d known him, she’d not felt such a weird connection to him. Almost like she knew where he was, what he was feeling and thinking, all sorts of weird things about his past that couldn’t possibly be true. “Want one?”

“Not tonight. We need to talk.” He grabbed her wrist, and even through his leather gloves, she felt that electric jolt strengthen. “Let’s go.”

Bristling under the combined weight of fear and his bossiness, she tugged free. “I’m busy.” She crouched and started putting the bottles of Guinness on the shelf. 

“Traci.” He removed his sunglasses and leaned over the bar. “Love.”

“Stop calling me that.” One of the bottles slipped out of her hand and smashed on the sticky floor. The harsh smell of alcohol and disappointment over his attitude made her eyes water. “You sure as hell weren’t in a hurry to say anything to me last night.”  
His aggrieved sigh echoed loud in the tight space surrounding her. “Listen, I—”

“No.” She grabbed a broom and dustpan and swept up the broken glass before dabbing up the liquid with a rag. “You listen. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t want to be a part of it.” Finished, she stood and crossed her arms. “ I have questions for you and I want answers.”

He hung his head and remained silent. 

“Right.” Angry and hurt, she stepped forward and rested her hands on the bar in front of him. “Fine. You should go. I’ve got things to do.”

Several more people moved in to order and she moved to help them, but never made it two steps. 

He grabbed her arm this time, steering her around the end of the bar and toward the exit in the back. She had no idea how he’d grabbed her that fast, but she damned well didn’t want to go anywhere with him. “Let. Me. Go!”

Traci wrenched her arm to get away, then winced as his fingers tightened. “Ow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, weaving them through the crowd. “But we need to talk.”

They passed by the full-length mirror lining one wall and she couldn’t help glancing at their reflection as he tugged her along. 

_Wait_. She was there but where the hell was Adam?

“Stop.” Traci dug in her heals, forcing him to stop. She pointed at the mirror and raised an eyebrow in his direction. 

“Not here.” He shook his head, his shaggy black hair wild. “Outside.”

Something was off, she just couldn’t place what. “My office. That’s as far as I’m going.”

Adam stared at her, a muscle ticking near his clenched jaw. At last, his grip loosened. He rolled his eyes and took off again. “Fine.”

She hesitated then followed behind him, her curiosity greater than her uncertainty.

“Cover for me, Mike”, she yelled to one of the bouncers. The beefy guy nodded and headed for the bar.

Once she and Adam were safely closed in her office, she took her seat behind the desk again, while he settled on the stool he’d used the night before. “So. Talk.”

He fiddled with his gloves, tugging them off slowly. “Entanglement.”

“Excuse me?”

“You asked me last night why I kissed you.”

“And?”

“Are you familiar with Spooky Entanglement?” He kept his gaze lowered, the black fall of his hair covering half his face. Her fingers itched to push it back, to stroke his lovely cheekbones and make him look at her, see her.

“No. But it sounds like a great band.”

He snorted, a small grin forming on his lips.

The memory of said lips on hers—hot, wet, needy—almost made her climax on the spot. _Jesus_. What the hell was wrong with her?

Adam looked up, caught her gaze, held. “When you separate an entwined particle and you move both parts away from the other, even at opposite ends of the universe, if you alter or affect one, the other will be identically altered or affected.”

“Huh. I still don’t see what—“

“Eve.” The way his voice cracked over the name sucker-punched her heart. “Eve was my entwined particle. No matter how far apart we were, we were still connected. Always.” He looked away. “When she…” Frowned. “Now that she’s…” 

“Look Adam, you’re lonely. I get that. I miss Eve too. And Ian. But I don’t want to be a poor substitute for what you really want. I’ve been down that road before and it just about killed me.” Traci took a deep breath. “I care about you. A lot. Probably more than I should, but last night…”

“I can explain that.”

“Let me finish.” Adrenaline pushed her to her feet and had her pacing the small room. “Last night, I don’t understand what happened. One minute we were looking at the stars and the next, we were…” Heat prickled in her cheeks. She was far from virginal, but the hot lust that erupted inside her at the thought of what might’ve happened between them the previous evening rivaled frigging Krakatoa. 

She’d wanted to rip off his clothes, fuck him senseless on the hood of his shiny white Jag, suck him dry then ride him hard again. 

Stunned at the sudden, erotic turn of her thoughts, Traci glanced over her shoulder only to find him still watching her. An answering heat sparked in his soulful, dark eyes. 

_Sweet Christ_. She needed to get a grip on this before she lost her shit. Again.

“I think we should stick to friendship, at least until this whole thing with Ian gets sorted out and we’re both on more solid ground.” She stood in front of the small window overlooking the alleyway behind the bar and hugged her arms around her middle. “Maybe once all this is over, then we can explore other options, if we’re both interested. Okay?”

“And if it’s not?” The stool creaked, his shadow engulfing her as he stepped closer. 

A flash of white outside the window drew her attention. Someone was out there. She leaned to the right to see farther down the dark street. Probably some college kids getting busy against the brick wall.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

“Nothing.” A cold chill trickled down her spine. “I thought I saw something.”

Despite the booming music coming from the bar, a high-pitched, girlish giggle pinged through the air. She looked at Adam. “Did you hear that?”

His expression shifted from sensual to serious in seconds. “Fuck. Not again.”


End file.
